I'll Be Anything You Ask and More
by C.C. Nyde
Summary: A collection of one-shots based around Kurt and Blaine. #9: The Glee club is arguing about their favorite Avengers.
1. Apologize

_Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. _

_a/n: Finn just really pissed me off this episode. _

"What the hell were you thinking?" Kurt asks, slamming Finn's bedroom door behind him as he stalks into the room.

"Whoa, be careful! Mom yelled at me last time I slammed the door!" Finn counters, swirling around from his desk and looking at his furious stepbrother.

"I don't care about the door! I care about you making my boyfriend feel _threatened _in a place where he's supposed to feel like he can be himself!" Kurt crosses his arms, giving Finn the scariest death glare he's ever seen.

"He isn't innocent, you know. He thinks he can just waltz in here and take all the solos? You know what it's like to have to _scream _to get noticed. I just don't want another guy in Glee who's gonna mess everything up." Finn looks up at Kurt and sees his brother has somehow gotten even angrier. "What?" He asks, confused, and Kurt just shakes his head and closes his eyes.

"Finn, I hope you realize how selfish and immature you're being, even considering _you're the male lead anyway_. Who was it that sang the lead in one of our songs at _Nationals_? The rest of us guys sat behind stage in silence as you and Rachel walked around each other in circles and sang the entire first song by yourselves." Kurt spits out the last two words with venom, pointing a finger at Finn who seems to also be getting angrier with every word.

"I wrote that song! I deserved to sing it!" Finn counters, standing from his chair and towering over Kurt.

"Oh, so you've deserved every other solo you've had at competition more than me? Or Puck, who just so happens to be your best friend? Or Mike, Sam, Matt, even Artie? Explain why you deserved those solos." Kurt is standing on his toes to get into Finn's face, punctuating every question with a finger to Finn's chest.

"I didn't say I deserved those ones! Mr. Shue gave them to me because he knows I can carry the group best." Finn sits down on his bed, looking please with himself.

"Oh, so that's it? Mr. Shue gives you the solos because he likes you best? Is that why he stopped Blaine from singing today?"

"It's not like that Kurt," Finn begins, but Kurt cuts him off.

"You know, Finn, Blaine really thought you two were friends. During the summer, he'd go on and on about how cool you were and how lucky I was to have an older brother like you to always look out for me. Now, he thinks he did something to offend you." Kurt steps towards the door of Finn's room, turning to look back at him and glare one final time before adding one last thing.

"Also, Santana told me you implied that Santa wasn't real to Brittany today when we agreed that we'd go along with it so she could have just that little bit of happiness for a little longer. So great job, Finn, her life just got a little less magical because of you. I'm disappointed. You better apologize to Brittany _and _Blaine. Or Carole _will _find your Playboy stash, I can guarantee it." Finn's eyes widen as Kurt leaves and slams the door behind him.

_He has really screwed up. _

_a/n: I know it's short, but it's late and I just speed-wrote this after watching the last episode. I'm not a Finn-hater or a Blaine-stan, but I really don't think Finn was being a good friend OR brother this episode. :( _

_lessthanthree, _

_Max_


	2. All The Time In the World

_Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, nor the movie the picture that this one-shot is based on. _

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><p>Blaine Anderson wakes up in a cold sweat, the sheets damp and twisted around his hips. The dark-haired boy sits up, looking around the dark room and blinking the sleep from his eyes. The shirt he's wearing is soaked through, so he removes it and chucks it blindly to where he thinks his hamper is. This is the third time this week he's had nightmares; always about the same thing. He looks to the inside of his wrist, where a faint green glow emits from his clock.<p>

_One day, nineteen hours, four minutes, and seven seconds. Six seconds. Five. _

He untangles himself from the navy blue sheets, padding into the small-ish bathroom that everyone has in their Dalton dorm room. His roommate continues sleeping, unaware of Blaine moving about.

He looks at himself in the bathroom mirror, taking in his wild, curly hair and his pale face. He splashes some cold water on himself, rubbing it around the back of his neck and pushing his hair off his forehead. He grips the edges of the sink, looking back to his glowing wrist.

_One day, nineteen hours, one minute, twenty seconds. Nineteen. Eighteen._

He plods back to bed, laying in the now-cool bed with his hands beneath his head; staring at the ceiling.

The dream was the same; it always is. He's rushing down the stairs here at Dalton, checking his pocket watch when a muffled voice calls to him. He can't make out the words, or even the sound of the voice, but Dream-Blaine turns and smiles, introducing himself and taking a pale hand into his. This would be a truly weird dream, but as Blaine turns to presumably drag this pale person down the hall with him, Blaine catches sight of his Dream-Self's left wrist. And what frightens him the most is that his clocks reads _zero days, zero hours, zero minutes, and zero seconds._

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><p>Kurt Hummel trudges down the halls of William McKinley high school, keeping his head down and his bag close to his body. He only has one class period until the end of the day, and he's fully ready to leave this hell-hole and go home to nap or take a shower. He walks into the choir room, almost running into Tina and Mike whose hands are linked as they completely ignore him while walking into the room. He enters after them, ignoring the stab of jealousy he feels deep in his chest when he sees their clocks that read zero. He pulls his sleeve further over his left wrist, covering the piece of duct-tape he'd placed over his own clock. He doesn't even remember what time it says, which is good, because he'd rather not know.<p>

He used to look at it all the time. He'd been able to tell people how much time he had left off the top of his head without even glancing at the little green clock. He used to be proud of it, showing it to bullies when they told him he'd be alone forever, shoving that left wrist into their faces to show them that _yes, he does have a soul-mate_.

Then he'd met Finn Hudson, and he was positive that this boy was his soul-mate. When his clock kept ticking, telling him he had more than a year until his mate would come traipsing into his life, he'd told himself it was just a mistake. Finn just hadn't introduced himself yet. And then Finn introduced himself, and that little clock just kept ticking, counting down the days, only making him more depressed. So he began to cover it. First, he began to just wear long sleeves, then he tried coloring over it with sharpie, and then he even tried getting a tattoo over it. The coloring never lasted, the sleeves rode up, and the tattoo needle wouldn't even work on it. Duct-tape was his only option. He would leave small pieces of duct-tape over it all the time, only taking them off if the fell or they were frayed or ripped. It worked well; he only saw the numbers when he removed the tape, and he tried to forget them as soon as possible.

Then Sam came along, and Kurt ripped the tape off as soon as he met the bottle-blonde boy, but his clock told him he'd still have to wait a month.

_A month. _

He couldn't help but remember that. He marked it in his calendar after covering his wrist back up, knowing that remembering his time would only hurt him in the end.

Kurt Hummel's clock is ticking down, even as he doesn't know it. He's been having dreams lately, of a stairway and dark hair, and he can't help but be a little excited.

_But what if he messes it all up?_

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><p>"Blaine, we have a performance in twenty minutes, what are you doing?" Wes asks, taking in Blaine's blank look as he sits on his twin bed, alone in his room.<p>

"Wes." Blaine voice is broken, and the Asian boy sends his other best friend, David, a worried look as he sits next to Blaine.

"Blainers, what's wrong?" Wes asks softly, patting Blaine's blue-blazer covered shoulder.

"I'm gonna meet them in twenty minutes. I'm gonna meet my soul-mate." Blaine turns sad caramel eyes at Wes, not knowing what to do.

"Well, then we better gel those stupid curls back. We don't want him thinking you're a hobo." David answers, ruffling Blaine's poofy hair as he does so.

"What makes you think it's a boy?" Blaine asks, grinning a bit.

"This is an all-boys school, dumbass."

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><p><em>"Why don't you go spy on the Garglers or something?" <em>Puck's voice rings through Kurt's head, taunting him and making him angry. His hands grip the steering wheel unconsciously, fingers turning white. He makes himself take a deep breath as he turns into the Dalton Academy For Boys parking lot. He parks his Navigator, sliding dark sunglasses onto his face and adjusting his make-shift uniform. He enters the building quietly, looking around for a bit before a loud bell rings and all the doors to the classrooms burst open, teenage boys milling around everywhere.

He follows the majority of them, coming to an elegant white stairway with a beautiful window above it. Almost suddenly, he's bombarded by images of himself walking down this stairway, and he knows it's the one from his dream. He swallows the lump in his throat and taps the shoulder of the boy in front of him.

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><p>"Late, late, late," Blaine mumbles to himself, flying down the stairs. After making him feel better, Wes and David had left to go to the senior commons, telling Blaine to come down when he was ready to sing. He'd waited too long, and now he was late for his own performance.<p>

He looks down to check his pocket-watch once more when a hand taps him on the shoulder. He turns, shoving the watch into his blazer pocket and looks into the bluest eyes he's ever seen.

His dream immediately comes to him, and before he knows it, he's taking the pale hand of that beautiful boy and taking him with him. He'll never let go of this boy's hand, he promises to himself. He proudly glances at his left wrist.

_Zero days, zero hours, zero minutes, zero seconds._

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><p>"Excuse me," Kurt says, and the boy turns. His caramel eyes light up, his full lips parting with a gasp. Kurt feels the same, he wants to gasp and widen his eyes, but he forces himself to keep his composure. He doesn't want this to be another Finn or Sam, so he forces himself to be calm.<p>

Still, he's hyper-aware of everything about this boy; his tanned skin, the freckles on his nose, the curly-black hair, and those _eyes_. He suddenly feels the _need _to tear the duct-tape off his left wrist, because he knows this is the boy. He knows.

The boy introduces himself, but Kurt barely hears it because the next thing he knows, the boy is taking his hand. It shocks Kurt to move, and, as he does, the tape on his wrist miraculously comes loose, revealing Kurt's clock.

_Zero days, zero hours, zero minutes, zero seconds. _

"_**If a clock could count down to the moment you met your soul-mate, would you want to know?"**_

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><p><em><strong><strong>A/N: Wow. It feels like I wrote this ages ago. It was originally on my tumblr, but since I've decided to make "Apologize" kind of a random one-shot dump, I thought I'd add this on. Thanks for reading. I'm not continuing Apologize (unless you really really want me to...) but this is rather going to be a random place for me to put random one-shots. _

_Thanks again! _

_lessthanthree,  
>Max <em>


	3. Slushied!

_Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. _

_a/n: A little Sebastian-bashing. But only because he slushies my boys, k? This is based off that new promo pic. You know which one I'm talking about. _

_Warning: A bit cracky. Okay, a LOT cracky. _

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><p>"Sebastian, why don't you just crawl back to your hole?" Kurt spits, stepping in front of Blaine and glaring at the smirking boy. The Warblers behind Sebastian stifle smiles behind gloved hands, watching as Kurt prepares to give another verbal smack down. The only Warblers not smiling are Sebastian and Trent. Sebastian because he's fully aware of Kurt's protectiveness, and he wasn't really expecting to have to put up and fight; Trent because he'd been on the other end of a Kurt Hummel rant and he's preparing himself for tears from someone.<p>

"Oh, and what are you going to do about it?" Sebastian asks, walking forward with both hands behind his back. Santana takes a step forward, but stops when Kurt throws a glare her way.

"Stay away from my boyfriend." Kurt states, standing his ground even as Sebastian slinks closer.

"Why don't you let him make his own decisions?" Kurt snorts, cocking his head to the side and looking the Warbler up and down.

"You really think he'd choose you, don't you?" Kurt's tone is possessive and mocking, and it makes his friends from New Directions take a step back. Sebastian notices their discomfort (and is that pride he sees?), but he doesn't let it stop him. He's planning on making Blaine his, and getting Kurt out of the way is the final step.

"I don't think. I know." He stops walking only a few feet away from Kurt, smirk still painted on his lips and hands still behind his blazer-clad back.

This time Blaine's the one to laugh. He approaches his boyfriend, squeezing his shoulders, still chuckling. Santana notices Kurt relax and begins to lead the Glee Club forward. She grabs Brittany, who grabs Artie's hand and forcibly pulls him forward. Quinn and Mike follow, taking defensive stances. Tina and Rory stand a little farther behind, ready to cart Artie around at a moment's notice. The Warblers get the memo and move forward too, standing in line with Sebastian and looking somewhat like fearsome businessmen.

"Just give it a rest, Seb," Jeff says, sticking up for his friends. Nick agrees, catching Sebastian's eye and shaking his head. Sebastian frowns and the Warblers relax.

"Fine, but you all should really take something for the road." Sebastian states deviously, pulling a bright red slushy out from behind his back. Several things happen at once.

First, Brittany says something defensive to Thad, trying to be scary, causing him to laugh. Mike and Logan both break into spontaneous dance, ready with full Michael Jackson choreography. Flint points back at Rory, who makes a _who, me? _face and shoots a look at Tina, who shrugs. Then, Blaine pushes Kurt behind him, shielding him from a cold, corn syrupy shower, and taking the slushy full on from Sebastian. Jeff and Nick explode into laughter, Mike and Logan high-five, and Kurt and Rory immediately run to Blaine's aide.

"I can't believe you just did that." Flint utters, throwing a shocked look at Sebastian before walking forward to help Blaine get the red dye out of his eyes.

"I was aiming for Kyle," Sebastian defends, but none of the Warblers are having it. Except maybe Thad, but that's only because he's always had a crush on Blaine. But that's another story.

All the Warblers surround Blaine, offering blazers and hoodies for him to clean up with, apologizing for Sebastian's behavior. Santana deems this as her moment. She approaches the silent Warbler, pointing a manicured nail into his chest.

"Stay away from Kurt and Blaine. They're the best couple ever, and even though I try not to pay attention to other people, I can tell they really have something great going for them." She looks back at the two boys, watching as they smile and laugh at each other as Blaine picks some of the red ice from his shoulder and smears it on Kurt's nose. "And if you plan on hurting either one of them, because we both know you lust for Hummel's ass as much as Blaine's by the way you leer at it when you think no one's looking, you're gonna have to go through me first. And I fight dirty."

Sebastian gapes, not knowing what to say. He finally settles on "I do not have a crush on Kurt." He stutters.

"Sure you don't, babycakes." She drawls, leaving him staring as she goes back over by her friends.

"Thanks, Santana," Kurt whispers, winking at her. She smiles back.

"Don't mention it. Seriously, don't tell anyone." He mimes zipping his lips and throwing the key away.

"You know, he wanted us to slushie you all. We have tons more of that shit in Nick's Jeep." Logan states from Mike's side, where both boys had been complimenting each other on their sweet moves. Everyone gets the same look on his or her faces, smirking and preparing for battle.

"And that is how we do it in Lima Heights."

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><p><em>an: a little Klaintana for you too. hope you enjoyed! feel free to give me ideas as well, my good friends. _

lessthanthree,  
>Max<p> 


	4. A Game of Ball

_Disclaimer: Glee doth not belong to me. _

_a/n: here. have some anderbros._

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><p>"Go 'way, Coop. I'm tryin' to read." Blaine orders, tucking his feet under him on the big armchair and sticking his nose back into his book.<p>

"No, come play outside with me." Fourteen-year-old Cooper commands, resting his baseball bat on his shoulder as he tosses the small baseball up and catches it again.

"No, 'm readin'." Blaine argues, switching positions in the chair and throwing his legs across one of the arms, poking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and turning the page.

"B, you've read that book like five times!" Cooper whines.

"I do not care. This is my favorite book. Leave me alone." Blaine moves again, throwing his little cargo-short clad legs over the back of the armchair.

"You're sitting wrong." The older Anderson child sighs, tapping his foot as Blaine turns the page again. "Mom said I have to take you to play baseball with me and you're making me late. Bobby's gonna get to pitch again!" Cooper says forcefully, but Blaine just ignores him.

Blaine moves again, draping across the chair with his feet up and the book propped on his little chest.

"Gosh, you're so stupid!" Cooper explodes, storming out of the sitting room, careful not to knock over one of his mother's vases or dad's piles of books.

"Cooper James Anderson!" His mother exclaims, coming out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a sky-blue towel. "Go apologize to your brother." She orders, pointing a carefully polished finger to the sitting room.

"No," Cooper says defiantly, thundering out into the hall and stomping to the door. "I'll be back before dinner." He walks out the front door into the blistering sunshine, shielding his eyes before taking off running down the street.

He comes to the abandoned lot where all the other boys in the neighborhood play ball and stops.

"Hey, Cooper!" Derek Thompson calls, waving Cooper over to where his friends are dividing teams. "Where's Blaine?" The fifteen-year-old asks, wiping a bit of sweat off his forehead.

"He's reading that stupid Narnia book again." Cooper pants as he throws a baseball out to Noah Puckerman in outfield.

"Darn. I brought Davie along with me and Cecilia brought Wes along to play. They were all excited about playing with the little man." Cooper sighs, looking over where Derek and Cecilia's younger brothers are playing in the grass. There's another boy, pale with shiny brown hair sitting with them too, twirling blades of grass around his fingers.

"Who's that other kid?" Cooper asks, following Derek into batting line as a few other boys and girls fill in the outfield.

"The little one? That's Finn Hudson's new little brother. Their mom and dad got married so Kurt and his dad moved in with Finn down the street. He's Blaine's age." The line moves forward as Maria Lopez hits a double. Derek steps forward and picks the bat off the shoe they're using as home plate. He does a few practice swings before nodding to Bobby Karofsky, who winds up and throws the ball straight down the middle. Derek hits it cleanly out towards left field and takes off running.

Cooper is up next, and he hits it off the ground over near where Taylor Sterling and Eric Duval are talking. The ball rolls past them as Taylor twirls some of her long blonde hair around her finger and Eric blushes.

"Yo, stop making googly-eyes at each other and get your heads in the game!" Bobby yells as Cooper rounds second base. Derek slides into first as Taylor finally grabs the ball and whips it in to the catcher.

Cooper rounds back to home after the next girl hits and sidles up next to Rebecca Chang. The shy girl looks at him, her short black hair sticking to her neck.

"So, which one's Finn Hudson again?" He asks and she jabs a thumb out to shortstop. A tall lanky boy, no more than twelve, with a buzz cut stands there awkwardly, swinging one of his arms behind his back.

"I see. I'll make sure to bring Blaine next time if you bring Mike." He winks, flirting a bit with Rebecca because she's definitely the prettiest girl in his grade, other than Maria, of course, but she's really mean to everyone.

"I'll do that." She replies breezily, turning around quickly. Cooper sighs.

Cooper plays the rest of the game silently, feeling bad that he didn't bring Blaine along. Every time he looks over to where Wes, David, and that Kurt kid are playing, he feels bad thinking that Blainers could have been having fun with his friends too.

_No, _Cooper thinks, _Stop feeling bad. It's not your fault he'd rather read. _

Then, instead of moping around about his stupid little brother, Cooper ignores the pang in his chest and claps his hands together. He's fully ready to beat Bobby's team into the ground.

Cooper ambles home around five-thirty, wiping at the sweat on his face with his wrinkled tee shirt. He walks straight upstairs to take a shower, only pausing to yell to his mother that he was home. After his cold shower, he dresses in light basketball shorts and another shirt and goes downstairs to find his mother standing in the door of the sitting room.

"He's out like a light." She says to no one in particular, but Cooper hears her and looks in the room too to see his little brother snoring on the armchair with his book upside down on his little chest. "Will you wake him up, dear, while I set the table?" Cooper nods, looking into his mom's suddenly soft eyes before she walks away.

He approaches the armchair carefully, tip-toeing so he doesn't wake his baby brother up. The teenager first takes the worn book off his brother's stomach, setting it carefully down on his dad's coffee table. Then he shakes Blaine's shoulder, the seven-year-old groaning and turning over.

"Time for dinner, B." He says softly, rumpling Blaine's thick, black curls.

"Coop?" Blaine asks sleepily, his head lifting as he looks around.

"It's me." Cooper assures, getting down on his knees to be eye level with the sleepy kid.

"How was baseball?" Blaine asks, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes.

"It was good. Wes and Davie were there. They want you to come along next time." Cooper tells Blaine as the child sits up in the chair.

"'Kay. Carry me?" Blaine asks, sticking his arms out to Cooper, and the teenager smiles and obliges.

_Next time, Blaine will come with. He'll sit on the sidelines and play superheros with Wes and David and maybe even Finn's little brother. _Cooper decides, boosting Blaine onto his hip and laughing as the little boy puts his arms around Cooper's next a bit too tightly.

Blaine does tag along next time, and he does spend the entire game playing with his friends. But even though Finn Hudson stands, awkward as ever, at shortstop, Kurt is nowhere to be seen. It makes Cooper a little sad, to think that he might have deprived Blaine of one more friend on that summer day when he'd rather have read.

_Probably not_, he thinks, and then catches the pot-fly that Jared Pierce hit out to him.

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><p><em>an: hola. this is the first anderbros i've written, and i am quite proud of it. you see, this is in a universe where blaine and cooper grew up in lima, and always had block parties and played outside in the afternoon. so everyone's older siblings hang out while the babies play games on the sidelines. squeeeee!_

_also, carole and burt got married earlier and finn is a lot older than kurt in this. just go with it. _

_i think this is my favorite drabble yet! gaaaah!_

_-max. _


	5. A NotQuiteSoHappy Reunion

_Disclaimer: Glee Glee Glee blah blah blah doth not belongth to meee. _

_a/n: here. shitty anderbros angst. enjoy. _

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><p>i was happy in my harbor<p>

when you cut me loose

floating on an ocean

and confused

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><p>"You left, Cooper!" Blaine screams, throwing the clock from his desk at the wall next to his bedroom door. "You left me!"<p>

Cooper Anderson holds his hands up in surrender, ducking behind the door. Blaine turns over in his bed, throwing the pillow over his face and blocking out the world. He hasn't seen his older brother since he walked out during the summer of eighth grade, leaving behind a cold home and a sad little boy.

"I didn't leave you." Cooper says, walking further into his not-so-little-anymore brother's room.

"Yes, you did." Blaine's anguished voice is muffled.

"I had to get out." Cooper explains, sitting down on the side of Blaine's bed and tentatively setting a hand on his back. "You know I wasn't meant for Westerville or Ohio or mom and dad. They didn't want for me what I wanted for me. So, yeah, I left, but I had completely fair intentions."

"Fair to who, Cooper?" Blaine counters, flipping over and looking his brother in the eye. The elder Anderson takes a moment to really look at his little brother for the first time in four years. He's grown taller—not by much—and his hair is less wild and more styled. His jaw is stronger, his eyebrows are darker, but he's still wearing the preppy clothes and bowties. _Gay as ever_, Cooper thinks, but then corrects himself. _Blaine as ever. _

Cooper looks taken aback for a moment. "What do you mean?" He asks, furrowing his brow.

"I needed you!" Blaine exclaims, throwing his hands forward.

Cooper shakes his head, laughing. He stands from Blaine's bed, walking near the vanity and leaning against it. "You've never needed me, B. You've always been independent."

Blaine sits up in bed, glaring at Cooper for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. Finally, after steaming in anger for two minutes, he speaks, voice shaky and full of conviction.

"So independent that I dealed with getting the shit kicked out of me at my first school dance because I'm different." He begins, standing as he speaks and walking forward towards his older brothers. "So independent that I dealed with my _friends _throwing rock salt in my eye and forcing me to get surgery." Blaine is standing right in front of Cooper at this point, his head tilted towards the older man and his fists clenched tightly. "I was sad and confused and I was hurting, Coop. I was hurting so bad and you weren't there to rock me back and forth and tell me everything was going to be okay."

Cooper swallows drily. "You got beat up?" Blaine huffs, pushing Cooper backwards before yelling.

"Wow, thanks for catching up you arrogant douchebag!" Cooper shoves back instinctively, voice rising.

"You cannot blame me for not knowing!"

"You should have known!" Blaine yells back, holding his ground and moving his face closer to Coopers, staring him down.

"You never told me." Cooper counters calmly, recalling all the times Blaine promised he would tell Coop everything, and then never did. Blaine doesn't know how much it hurt to think that he didn't want to talk to his own brother. That he didn't want to share his life. His troubles, his hopes, his dreams, his experiences. It hurt Cooper like hell.

"I didn't want you to be disappointed in me." Blaine whispers after a long while, looking down at the ground. Cooper's surprised how young Blaine seems at this very moment. It's like he's still the little boy that would run to Cooper every time he got a splinter or found a new bug outside.

"I could never be disappointed in you." Cooper says as soft, looking in Blaine's so-very-much-like-their-mother's honey eyes.

"We were happy. And then you tore it all away." Blaine clears his throat, swallowing back tears, and leaves his room. Cooper stands, staring at the spot Blaine had been standing.

_Damn it._

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><p><em>an: heh. speed written. cooper anderson spoilers. god damn i'm excited. it's late, i'm tired. i hope you enjoyed this. _

_if convenient, review. if inconvenient, review anyway. wait shit wrong fandom sorry. _

_lessthanthree,  
>max. <em>


	6. Where the Glee Club Is a Jazz Band?

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything here. Nada. _

_A/N: uhm. jazz band. yep._

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><p>Blaine Anderson's first day at Lima Middle School was eventful. He made a bunch of new friends, joined the jazz band, and learned how to get cherry slushie out of a white shirt, but we'll start at the beginning.<p>

"Mom, I don't want to go." Blaine whines, looking at his driving mother as she pulls into the parking lot of his new school.

"I know sweet boy, but you have to," She smoothes down an errant ebony curl on his head, smiling sadly. He sighs and reaches around the seat, grabbing his backpack from the back seat and turning to look at his mother one more time. His mom reaches across the center console, kisses his cheek, ruffles his hair once more, and sends him on his way.

Lima Middle School is huge. And not huge in the way his old private school was, but huge in the way that there are kids everywhere. They seem to spill out of the doors and windows onto the front lawn, and everyone is talking. They're all sharing stories of vacations and fun-filled stories, and Blaine has never felt so alone. He doesn't know what do to and is nearly run over by kids as they spill out of a large school bus that has pulled up to the curb where his mother's car once was.

Blaine shoulders his backpack, sticks his head up high, and heads for the entrance.

He makes it through homeroom and first period fine, going through the normal routine where the teacher makes him stand in front of the class and tell his name and hobbies while the rest of the class judges him silently.

The Incident happens while he's walking to second period social studies. He rounds the corner and walks face-first into a shower of cherry ice. It gets in his eyes, his hair, it slides down the back and front of his shirt, chilling him to the bone, and, worst of all, a little slides into his pants.

"Welcome to eighth grade, fairy!" A kid yells, but Blaine is too busy worrying about his new khakis and the pure ice freezing to his body to notice. Suddenly, a delicate hand is guiding him down the hallway, taking him to a bathroom. The person spinning him around, sits him down in front of a sink, and sticks his head under a warm spray.

"Calm down." A voice commands and Blaine didn't even realize he had been kicking at them. "I'm almost done." There's a soothing feeling on water being run over his face and suddenly his eyes are clear to look up at his rescuer.

"Hi, I'm Tina," The girl says, sticking out a hand to him. He shakes it carefully, looking over the short Asian girl in front of him.

"Blaine." He introduces himself, looking down at the red stain on his polo.

"I know someone who can get that stain out." Tina offers, holding out a hand to help him up. "Follow me," She commands, walking out the door of what Blaine realizes with a blush is the girl's bathroom. She walks purposely down the hall, turning quick corners and not even pausing to make sure Blaine's following.

Finally they stop in front of two doors, marked 'BAND ROOM'. He swallows.

"Well, come in," Tina says, laughing, and holds the door open for him.

A wall of sound hits him. There's a blaring trumpet, beating drums, some girl yelling loudly, and on top of it all- someone is butchering Piano Man on a baby upright.

"Welcome to the first Lima Middle School Jazz Band practice of the year!" Tina says, guiding him farther into the band room. There's a bunch of kids in the large room, all with some kind of instrument, warming up or playing.

"Hey, Kurt!" Tina suddenly calls to a boy playing some kind of percussion instrument. He turns, sees the stain on Blaine's shirt, and immediately pulls a Tide-To-Go stick out of his pocket. He throws it across the room to Blaine, who catches it and takes the cap off to clean his shirt.

"Get cleaned up and then we'll introduce you to everyone." Tina commands, walking over to an instrument case and pulling out a saxophone.

By the time Blaine's shirt is whitish again, everyone has found a seat in the band room. Tina gestures for Blaine to sit in between her and a pretty blonde girl, so he does.

"Hey, kids!" A teacher suddenly calls, walking out from an office to the right of the conductor's podium. "Welcome back, I hope you're all in for a fun year because I know we'll get a Division One at State contest this year! I can feel it!"

"Mr. Shue, we got a Three last year. We suck." A brunette butts in, making the boy named Kurt groan.

"I know we didn't do too good last year, guys, but we just need to get out there and get more members. You're all on recruit duty. Look, Tina already got us another member." The teacher points at Blaine, who looks up at him with a deer-in-headlights expression.

"Come on up and tell us about yourself." Mr. Shue says. Blaine steps up to the podium and faces the room full of teenagers.

"Hi, I'm Blaine." He pauses, looking around.

"What do you play?" Mr. Shue asks, smiling a little creepily.

"Uh, violin?" The kids laugh as his voice cracks.

"Anything that can be used in jazz band?" Mr. Shue laughs nervously.

"Uh. I can play the piano better than who was before." The brunette that had interrupted before scoffs.

"As if," She replies, and Blaine smiles. He walks over to the glossy piano and immediately starts in to a slow, jazzy version of _Hit Me Baby One More Time_ by Britney Spears. An African American girl starts singing along, which gets everyone in the room going, except the brunette. By the time Blaine finishes playing, she's seething.

"Well, I guess my talents aren't needed here." She shrieks, running out of the room with loud, purposeful steps.

"She'll be back in twenty minutes." A tall lanky boy says.

By the time ten minutes is up, she is back. By that time, Blaine has learned almost all of the names and instruments they play of every kid in jazz band.

First, there's Noah, or Puck as he calls himself, who plays lead guitar. Then there's Artie, who plays bass and is in a wheelchair. Kurt plays percussion when they need it, but his brother Finn, the tall, lanky one, plays the main drum set. Mercedes, the African American girl, plays the saxophone with Tina. Mike, Tina's "not boyfriend" plays First trumpet. Then there are two other trumpet players: Matt and Quinn. Matt is really quiet and Quinn is wearing some kind of cheerleading uniform. Sugar, a girl wearing quite a bit of pink, attempts to play the clarinet with another girl named Brittany, who seems to be a cheerleader, like Quinn. There's one more cheerleader named Santana, who plays the trombone.

"Only 'cause it means I can carry around a boner," She whispers in his ear, squeezing his knee, but he only scoots away from her. There's a boy named Rory with an Irish accent who plays the tuba. Sam plays the trombone, Joe plays the baritone saxophone, and Lauren plays the baritone.

They're a real group of misfits, but they all seem to have fun and enjoy each other's company. By the time the bell rings for the jazz band to go to lunch, Blaine's made a bunch of new friends. And sure, maybe he didn't want to go to school this morning, yeah, he did get slushied on his first day, but maybe it was worth it all.

"By the way, Tina said you were wearing long john underwear under your shirt and pants," Kurt whispers to him in the lunch line. Blaine laughs and turns back to him.

"Hey, what you call long johns, I call cotton chainmail." He counters, which makes Kurt laugh. And seeing Kurt laugh- that's what really makes it all worth it. Blaine just doesn't realize it yet.

* * *

><p><em>an: what what what is this. this is what happens when you give me a keyboard and a lot of spare time. i like this though. BAND IS MY CALLING. I LOVE MARCHING BAND AND I WANTED EVERYONE TO BE IN BAND, OKAY? okay. well alright. thanks for reading. drop a review if you're cool. ;)_


	7. A Little Talk

_Disclaimer: Hey! I don't own Tony Stark from The Avengers or Blaine Anderson from Glee. _

_a/n: just a little baby drabble. anderstark. angst. fun times. _

* * *

><p>When the first call to Pepper didn't make it through, Tony Stark called the only other person he had cared for in his whole life that wasn't himself. His son.<p>

The phone rang five times before the teenager finally answered with a breezy hello.

"Hey, Blaine," Tony greets, voice cracking.

"Hey, dad, what's up?" Blaine asks conversationally. Tony closes his eyes as he continues flying upwards.

"You watching the news?" Tony swallows.

"No, I'm over at Kurt's house." Blaine answers, growing concerned with his father's tone. "Why?"

"Don't turn it on." Stark orders his son, finally letting a tear fall down his cheek. "Just stay with Kurt and tell him I say hi."

"Dad, what's going on?" There's a rustling sound on the other end as he imagines Blaine sitting up from his boyfriend's bed, leaving a confused Kurt behind.

"Nothing, kid." Tony tries to say nonchalantly, but JARVIS interrupts with a warning.

"Sir, you'll be entering the portal soon and we'll lose phone service." The AI informs, and Tony nods to himself.

"Dad, what does JARVIS mean by 'portal'. Dad, tell me what's happening." Blaine pleads. There's a gasp from another voice, and suddenly Tony can hear a reporter talking in the background. There's a sound of an explosion from a television and Tony winces as he hears Blaine whimper. Then, a reporter talking about something called The Avengers.

"The Avengers Initiative? That's what this is?" He asks his father and Tony sighs.

"I told you not to turn on the TV." Stark states, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Dad, is that you? Flying into the sky?" Blaine questions, already knowing the answer. Tony closes his eyes and then opens them again, seeing how he's grown closer to the portal.

"Listen, bud, I gotta go." Tony chokes out, tears flowing down his cheeks.

"No, dad, don't go please," Blaine begs, tears clouding his voice and muffling his pleas. Stark hears Kurt in the background, telling Blaine it's all okay. There's another rustling of clothes as he imagines Kurt hugs Blaine tightly to his chest.

"You can't." Blaine whispers into the cell phone, then sniffs.

"I love you, Blaine." Tony promises.

"Dad, no, you don't have to-" Blaine's voice cuts off as he enters the portal, suddenly in deep space. It's utterly silent, the vacuum of space swallowing every single sound.

"Blaine?" Stark whispers, letting another tear roll down his cheek. Then he's throwing the nuke at the alien ship and watching as it blows. He closes his eyes and lets himself drift backwards, feeling the air leave his lungs as space consumes him.

* * *

><p><em>an: wow that was fun and not at all angsty, right? review, please! _

_lessthanthree, max. _


	8. Runner

_disclaimer: i don't own glee, nor the plot from james dashner's book, the maze runner._

_a/n: slight spoilers if you haven't read the maze runner yet. _

* * *

><p>He wakes in a dark room. There's enough light leaking in from cracks in the walls for him to tell that it's a perfect square and it's completely empty. He tries to stand, becoming dizzy and falling to the floor with a loud bang.<p>

_Blaine. _That's the only thing that runs through his mind. He tries to remember anything else: who he is, how he got in this box, why is he here, but the only thing that comes to mind is his name. _Blaine. _

There's a commotion outside the room, and suddenly the side of the room begins to disappear. Bright sunlight streams in, blinding Blaine for a moment.

"We got another Newbie!" A loud, male voice calls, many other male voices responding. Blaine shields his eyes and stands up, walking toward the voices and the light. He leaves the room, entering a large, outdoor… building? He's not sure how to describe it.

There's no ceiling, only the sun and a cloudless sky. There are walls around him in all four corners, all at least fifty feet tall and covered in dark green vines and leaves. Except, on every wall there is an open space about thirty feet across. _Doors_, his mind tells him.

The place he's in almost looks like a town. There's a large barn over in one of the corners, all kinds of animals grazing in fenced in areas. There are a few buildings that look like houses, each standing on unsteady foundation. A few more buildings stand haphazard around, none near the doors, but more in the middle or near the corners.

Surrounding him are boys. Lots of boys. They range in age and looks, almost twenty to thirty of them all standing around him in a circle. There's one that stands closest to him, a taller boy with a Mohawk and a face that doesn't look too friendly. He has arms that are probably the size of Blaine's thighs, and Blaine knows he'd never want to get into a fight with this kid. Mohawk boy slaps Blaine on the shoulder, flashing a shit-eating grin, before speaking in a gruff voice.

"Welcome to the Glade, kid."

* * *

><p>"How the hell did I get here?" Blaine asks again, refusing to be ignored again. All of the boys had left a while after he'd left what they called the Box. Mohawk kid, Puck, explained to him that they all had jobs to do.<p>

"You saw the Box." Puck replies shortly, leading Blaine around the 'Glade'.

"How did I get in the Box?" Blaine questions, more aggressive this time. Puck spins around to face him, towering over the boy.

"Look, kid, it's your first day here so I understand your ridiculous need to ask questions, but I have work to do." Puck turns back around and starts to stalk off, but Blaine's arm shoots out fast and grabs hold of him.

"Tell me." He hisses, brown eyes flashing. Puck grits his teeth, then laughs.

"You got spunk kid, that's for sure." He pulls his arm from Blaine's tight grasp and claps him on the shoulder. "No one remembers how they got in, no one remembers why they got in, and no one questions it. It's all about survival at this point, Blainers. Get used to it."

* * *

><p>"Here's all you need to know at this point, Blaine," The tallest boy, Finn, tells him later after showing him his 'room' in the 'hotel'. "The Glade is like a maze. We send runners out every day to try and map it and figure out how to get out, but for all we know, it changes every night while we sleep. There's these things out there too, Grievers. No one's ever encountered one and lived to tell about it." Finn takes a breath as Blaine sits down on his cot of a bed.<p>

"The Glade… it messes with you. You show up, no memory except your name, and you're expected to survive. Everyone knows there's something out there. Sometimes, guys remember things. Just small things, like white jackets and this thing, like an acronym. WICKED." The name sends shivers down Blaine's spine.

"We think they trapped us in here. We always try to figure it out from the guys who get their memory back, but they don't last long."

"What do you mean, don't last long?" Blaine swallows, looking at Finn in fear.

"They always die, like a day later."

* * *

><p>They make Blaine a Runner after figuring out how much he likes to map things. His first day on the job, he laces up some sneakers and takes off after another Runner, Mike, running into the Glade and not turning back. They twist and turn through the maze, writing down every new wall they encounter.<p>

"Huh," Mike says suddenly, jogging to a stop as they come to a wall.

"What?" Blaine wheezes, bending over to catch his breath. Mike is much faster than he'd expected, and he's been struggling to keep up.

"I've seen this wall before. Four days ago." Mike says, writing a note at the edge of his paper.

"I thought you said they always change." Blaine comments, straightening his back and taking a swig of water from the bottle clipped to his belt.

"They do." Mike replies. Then, suddenly as if Mike has has had a rush of thought, whipping his head backwards, he turns to Blaine, nods his head, and then takes off running.

Blaine tries to catch up, but the Asian boy is running way too fast for him to keep with the pace. He falls behind, but notices that Mike seems to be running back into the center of the Glade.

"Mike, what happened?" He calls, out of breath. Mike doesn't stop, but he does shout something back to Blaine.

"I remembered!"

Blaine is trying to think of anything else it could mean, but he only thinks back to what Finn had told him.

"Wait up!" He calls and Mike slows as he goes around a corner. Blaine is about to turn too when he hears a sharp yelp and then silence. He skids to a stop, peering around the corner.

"Mike?" He whispers, seeing no sign of his friend. "Mike?" He calls again, louder this time, and gets no response. He looks around the maze, but sees nothing, only tall, vine-covered walls.

As he's turning to run back to the center, a flit of black catches his eye. It's small, up in the corner of the wall, a little black beetle the size of his hand. There's one word written in white ink on the side and it sends chills all the way to his toes.

_WICKED. _

He runs faster than he's ever run before, high-tailing it back to the center Glade. He ignores the burning in his lungs and legs, pushing further and faster until he just about runs into Puck in the center.

"Wicked!" He manages to gasp, falling to his knees. Puck grabs his shoulders and forces him to look the mohawked boy in the eyes.

"Where is Mike?" Puck questions, voice hard.

"Beetle." Blaine gasps, "WICKED." Puck's eyes widen and he takes a step back from the gasping boy.

"Not again."

* * *

><p>Weeks later, after Blaine has tried and failed to forget about Mike and the WICKED beetle, another Newbie arrives. At first, the boys are annoyed with the thought of another mouth to feed and boy to take care of, but it all changes when the box actually opens.<p>

It's a boy, like it always is, except he's awake. He's standing in the space, a completely blank look on his face, like he isn't surprised.

"Oh, there you are," He exclaims suddenly, pointing to Blaine and moving towards him quickly, blue eyes shining in excitement. "They told me you'd be waiting." The boy says, as if he knows Blaine.

"Sorry, who are you?" Blaine questions, looking around at the other Gladers in confusion.

"It's me, Kurt." The boy says, raising an eyebrow. "Don't you remember me?"

"I don't remember anything." Blaine tells Kurt, and the blue-eyed boy frowns.

"Well, that certainly wasn't expected."

"What do you mean? Do you know me?" Blaine asks, but Kurt isn't paying attention anymore. He's looking around at all the boys surrounding, studying them.

"There's only one more thing to tell you then." Kurt whispers. There's a collective silence as his gaze slides slowly back to Blaine's.

His voice is feather-light. "WICKED is good." And then he faints.

* * *

><p><em>an: oh me lordy i have been writting this for like ever. it's a little bitty klaine story to the plot of the book the maze runner. if you haven't read it yet, it's a great trilogy. this is basically like the first five chapters with a couple of modifications. i kind of made up the whole mike scene but whatevs. hopefully you're confused. that's the point! who knows, i might add more to this. *shifty eyes*_

_i hope you enjoyed it because i sure enjoyed writing it!_

_lessthanthree,  
>Max. <em>


	9. An Argument

_a/n: uh. i did it again. shit. _

* * *

><p>"Captain America is totally the best." Sam argues with Finn. Finn shakes his head.<p>

"Nuh-uh, have you seen the way Thor just smacks guys away with his hammer? It's the coolest thing I've ever seen!" Finn exclaims, looking around to the rest of Glee Club for approval. He realizes that no one else is paying attention to his and Sam's argument, so he stands up and whistles.

"Guys, who do you think is the best Avenger?" He questions loudly, smiling proudly when the entire club looks to him.

"Finn, no one cares." Mercedes says disinterestedly. Quinn nods along, turning back to her conversation with Tina. The rest of the club follows, ignoring Finn and continuing their conversations.

"I like the Hulk." Puck proclaims loudly, snapping everyone back to attention.

"No way, dude, that guy's a monster!" Sam says, looking horrified.

"Yeah, but he's also a total genius." Artie adds, earning a fist-bump from Puck. Everyone gives in and voices their opinion on the matter.

"I like Cap. He's so… wholesome." Rachel sighs, looking at Finn with lovey-dovey eyes.

"I like Stark, because he is one fine of ass." Santana purrs, high fiving Mercedes.

"Agreed," Mercedes laughs, "I'd like to get all up on that Iron Man."

Blaine and Kurt share a quick look of horror, but it's ignored as everyone suddenly starts yelling their favorites.

"Hawkeye!" Mike and Tina agree.

"Iron Man," Sugar begins, slipping her sunglasses off her head and over her eyes, "because he's rich like me."

"The Black Widow, obviously. She's a strong, independent female who doesn't need a man to control her, like me." Quinn says, holding her head high.

"Yeah, except she's totally screwing the archer boy." Puck snorts, making Quinn give him a deathly glare.

"I like Thor, because he's Nordic." Rory says, flashing a smile.

"You're Irish and he's from a faraway galaxy." Santana states snarkily.

He shrugs. "I just like his hair. Reminds me of me sister."

"I agree with Quinn." Joe says.

"I like Black Widow because she's the only redhead that's ever turned me on." Brittany deadpans. Everyone sits in silence for a few moments before Finn turns to the only people who have stayed quiet through the whole conversation.

"Kurt? Blaine? Who do you like?" He asks, and they look at each other, smiling.

"We both like Iron Man." Kurt answers, grabbing Blaine's hand and pulling it onto his lap to intertwine their fingers together.

"Why?" Sam snorts, "He's totally the worst Avenger." Blaine's grip tightens.

"Why do you think that?" He asks, voice level.

"He's so selfish. If he wouldn't have built that big, flashy monstrosity of a building in New York, Loki wouldn't have had a place to put that Terseract thing."

"First, it's Tesseract." Blaine begins, tone growing colder, "And second, he's the one who risked his life to throw that nuke into space. He could have died; in fact, he thought he would, yet he still did it. You call that selfish?"

Sam moves to loom over Blaine, sneering.

"Oh, please, Stark didn't do it for the city. He did it for the fame."

Blaine gets to his feet; setting his shoulders back and making him appear larger to intimidate Sam.

"He did it to save everyone." Blaine spits out, and Kurt grabs his shoulder and squeezes. Sam takes a small step backwards at the look Kurt shoots him. He puts his hands up in surrender.

"Whatever. Why're you so defensive about him anyway?" Blaine shoots Kurt a look and the boy nods almost imperceptivity.

"He's my dad."

* * *

><p><em>an: yeah. i don't even plan on following this up. it was fun though. _


End file.
